


A Grimm Affair

by oshjoshmgosh



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Clumsy Stiles Stilinski, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Protective Derek, Unwanted attention, bad fairy tale humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:44:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oshjoshmgosh/pseuds/oshjoshmgosh
Summary: Derek brings Stiles to an alpha convention for established packs. Or rather, Stiles brings himself along as Derek's mate, in spite of the fact he will be one of the only humans present. It should be full of sane alphas, so what could go wrong?So what if he has to remind some overreaching wolves that Disney's fairy tales were originally a lot darker, and that no one messes with Little Red Riding Hood.





	A Grimm Affair

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Electricity In the Contact](https://archiveofourown.org/works/664623) by [ladyblahblah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyblahblah/pseuds/ladyblahblah). 



“Hey, I'm gonna run to the bathroom.” Derek leaned in to whisper, hand pressing lightly to Stiles' lower back. He squirmed back into the pressure, bumping their heads lightly. He still loved when Derek touched him in public. Especially this kind of public.

The kind of public with literal dozens of people who were watching them.

Dozens of werewolves who were watching them.

Alphas. They were all alphas.

Watching them.

They were in the ballroom of a Ritz-Carlton hotel in Los Angeles, surrounded by dozens of alpha werewolves, all dressed to the nines and mingling like their senses were totally okay with having other alphas right up under their territorial noses.

But then, that was the point of the convention.

Once every five years, apparently there was an alpha-con that met in some big city, and every stable pack in the country sent their alpha to cavort with other alphas, network and schmooze like they were high-end businessmen.

And women, of course there were women.

Most of them were scarier than the men.

That may be because they watched him more frequently though.

He was there as Derek's plus-one, the alpha's mate.

He was also there as Scott's plus-one, but less officially because that would be stepping all over Derek's alpha toes. His best friend could have brought Allison, but chose to just slum it with the boys instead.

Probably because bringing the Argent Princess into a convention of alphas would have resulted in a distinctly hostile environment.

And probably the four of them going home in body bags.

So Allison had stayed home, and Scott had technically come alone as the co-alpha of the Beacon Hills pack.

They drew stares, because it was apparently unheard of for two un-mated alphas to share a pack.

Stiles had grown used to the stares by the end of the first evening.

As one of the only human tag-alongs, he received more stares than his co-alphas.

“Yeah, I'll just chill here at the bar. Hope everything comes out okay!” Derek sneered at him as he pulled back, so he winked. “Seriously, I'll be fine. Don't bust your bladder.”

“Where's Scott?” Stiles rolled his eyes. He would be fine, he did not need a babysitter!

“No clue. He went off to chat up some other chipper young alphas about twenty minutes ago.” Derek growled low in his throat, not-so-subtly trying to glare at every single person within his field of vision. Stiles pushed him. “Go pee. I can survive for two minutes alone.”

He honestly thought it was cute, and Derek's protectiveness touched him in a warm, fluffy place. Because it was a little risky for Stiles to be alone. Stiles was a human, apparently-easy prey, and some of the less-refined alphas would be all over him as soon as Derek was not there to babysit. Stiles hoped the fact that everyone was dressed classy meant they had a bit more sense, but after Deucalion and the alpha pack, he knew that was not a given.

So he had some contingencies.

Derek grumbled but walked away. Stiles watched him go, unashamedly staring at him and appreciating the suit Lydia had pleaded-cajoled-bribed-threatened him into wearing.

He truly did love that girl.

The love had different intentions than it used to, but it was still true love. If he were ever under a sleeping spell...

He would want Derek to kiss him, because that was the whole point of the Disney version of that fairy tale.

As soon as Derek was out of sight, he pulled out the metal file he had taken to carrying on him at all times and began sharpening the middle finger on his right hand. Derek thought it was ridiculous and pointless, but Stiles had decided to keep that one finger sharp at all times.

It was one of his contingencies.

He was damn proud of it too.

It was long, extending a full centimeter from his finger tip at the point, and he kept it sharp enough to cut.

He had never actually used it to cut a person before, but he knew it could.

Mostly because it cut him whenever he forgot about it and accidentally stabbed himself.

_'That'll never be any good against a werewolf, Stiles.'_

_'Well maybe it's not for a werewolf, Derek!'_

_'Then what's it for?'_

_'Don't pretend you don't like it when I claw the shit out of you while you're-'_

_'Shut up, Stiles.'_

He grinned at the memory of the argument, slipping the file back into the pocket of his jacket and sipping on his drink.

“Excuse me,” a womanly voice crooned from behind him. He ignored it, assuming the smoky, voluptuous tone was meant for someone else, until fingers wrapped gently around his shoulder and the owner of the voice sauntered into his view. His eyes popped and he swallowed heavily, his stomach twisting up in knots like it always did when a beautiful woman talked to him.

Derek might be his boyfriend, but he still had eyes. And the social inability to remain coherent in the face of stunning beauty, Lydia notwithstanding.

“I couldn't help notice that you're both alone, and gorgeous. I was hoping I could change the first of those, because no one would want to change the second.” His jaw dropped, and he broke out into a smile.

She was hitting on him.

A beautiful woman was hitting on him.

A beautiful _alpha_ woman was hitting on him, Stiles Stilinski. If only his sixteen-year old self could see him now.

Derek was going to _freak_.

He gathered his wits and closed his jaw, giving her a bright smile and gently moving her hand from his shoulder.

“While I appreciate the compliment, and my younger self is kicking and screaming, my current self is taken, so I'll have to decline.” Her smile cooled slightly at his rebuff and she tossed her gorgeous, flowing black hair over a shoulder, revealing dainty collar bones under her dark blue gown that he had to exert serious effort to not ogle.

“Yes, the brute, Hale.” And there went the admiration. His own smile dropped from his face and he lifted one of his eyebrows judgmentally. She continued before he could defend his mate though, smiling again and stepping forward. He slipped his right hand into his pocket.

“I'm sure 'taken' is the perfect word. Perhaps you could use some rescuing? I mean, the roles are a bit swapped, but I could always be the knight to your damsel.” Okay, ouch. Did he really look like a damsel being hoarded by a dragon? Fine. Whatever. Damn alphas and their judgy territorial...ness.

“Look, I'm sure you're great, and you're gorgeous. But I'm only gonna ask nicely for you to step off once.”

“I'm certain I could handle your little 'boyfriend.'” He bristled at the almost-visible air quotes she placed around the word, but he smiled even as she lifted her hand back to his shoulder and squeezed in a matter that he would never interpret as friendly. He had unscrewed the cap on the small vial sewn into his pocket, and he dipped his sharpened nail into the clear gel within.

His smile slipped as he felt it touch his skin.

Great. Now he only had a few seconds.

He turned in his seat to lean back against the counter while he reached up and grabbed her wrist, sure to break skin with his nail. She grinned like a shark at the pain, clearly amused at his cute little 'claw.'

Then her hand went slack and her grin vanished.

Her arm slid from his grasp as he felt the numbness creep along his own arm. He gathered the last vestiges of control and folded his arms across his chest, smirking as the woman's eyes widened and her legs gave out beneath her.

“My boyfriend isn't the one you should have been worried about.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his blazer to keep his arms folded even as he felt himself go numb all over. He would be fine in a few minutes: kanima venom never worked as well on the skin as it did in the blood. But he would be in trouble if anyone else knew he had paralyzed himself.

“What did you do to me?”

“Aw, what, are you suddenly remembering how the original Red Riding Hood ended? Shoulda paid attention to the color of my shirt.” Stiles _always_ wore red when he was doing werewolf things that involved other packs. Everyone rolled their eyes at him, but he loved the subtext his clothes always provided. They helped him feel powerful in spite of the fact that he was constantly surrounded by people that could rip him apart.

They frequently tried, and yet he was always the one to walk away.

So he wore a deep red shirt, open collared, under his black blazer.

Derek had made them late taking it off him as soon as he asked his boyfriend's opinion.

Speaking of his boyfriend, Stiles released a small, relieved sigh when he saw Derek slipping his way through the crowd. He was being less than polite in his shoving, but everyone was too busy paying attention to him and the woman laying on the ground at his feet. He looked down at her and sniffed, making eye contact with his boyfriend.

“Touch me again and Derek won't have time to get jealous before you're wearing your intestines like a scarf.

“Hey honey!” He turned a bright, face-only smile on the werewolf as he finally broke through the crowd and stared bug-eyed at the woman. His eyes met Stiles and he prowled forward, reaching out for Stiles' arm.

“Wanna carry me back to our room and have your wicked way with me to fulfill your territorial tendencies? Just make sure not to touch my hand, I've got more than blood on it.” He winked, as though he could possibly insinuating something sexy.

Actually, of course he could. He was still a teenager.

Derek growled, looking between the alpha and Stiles. He finally snarled in her direction and turned, hoisting Stiles over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

“Lydia is gonna kill you for rumpling this suit.”

“I'm going to kill you for...what did you do?”

“I'll tell you later. Mush!” His arms dangled limply over Derek's back and his face bumped into Derek's ass as they moved. He grinned, and felt no shame as he learned that kanima venom did nothing to stop blood flow. Derek growled and he laughed loudly. He turned his head so he could take in the gobsmacked expressions of the werewolves they passed on their way out of the ballroom.

“Thank you! You've been a wonderful audience!” Derek growled as he crowed, and he noticed a couple reluctant grins on the faces of the passing alphas. “I'll be here all week! Or until I get kicked out. Someone prop Sleeping Beauty up somewhere comfortable, she'll be fine in an hour.” He got the last words out just as the door closed behind them, cutting off the onlookers.

“I leave you alone for two minutes, Stiles!”

“And I'm fine! I told you I'd be fine!”

“You're paralyzed!”

“And fine! Completely unharmed, I can even kick my feet, see?” He kicked Derek weakly, barely missing his crotch in the process. “Totally fine.”

“You're insane.”

“It's why you love me. Someone's gotta keep you on your game!

“Although, speaking of game, I was totally serious about having your wicked way with me.” He grinned at the low sound Derek made. “It'll be like extreme bondage or something, except without all the pesky rope burn!”

“Shut up, Stiles.” Why ever would he do that?

“Safeword will be 'Allison' like usual, yeah? Hey, maybe we should go back and borrow that alpha's dress, we can parade it around like someone who wants to take me for their own and you can play my rescuer and-” Derek bounced, smacking Stiles face into his butt.

He felt both pleased and incensed that it was taught enough to hurt his nose.

“Shut up, Stiles.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by
> 
>  
> 
> [Electricity in the Contact](http://archiveofourown.org/works/664623/chapters/1213111)
> 
>  
> 
> , an amazing short story I love. Decided I wanted a little more bamf stiles in this situation, and this little tid bit stuck in my head. I apologize for the shamelessly terrible humor! Hope you enjoyed, and if you haven't read the aforementioned story, you totally should.


End file.
